Lifesaver
by Aeci
Summary: Tony would always speak up and tell Bruce everything was okay. This time, he didn't say anything. Slash.


**_A/N:_ **_Thanks for taking the time to visit this story! It's a one-shot slash fic, comprised of an exchange between Tony Stark and Bruce Banner. The narrative is told from Tony's point of view and the story is meant to be in MCU canon, although there isn't much to suggest so, or otherwise. The mood of the fic itself is bittersweet, or at least that's what I was going for. This is my first attempt at slash.  
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_Please enjoy, and feel free to leave a review if you have any comments or suggestions._

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**Lifesaver**

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The sun, afraid to reveal itself from behind a cover of clouds, bleached a haze that was hot and smoky. It seeped with tiny fragments of dust that ruthlessly pricked at Tony's eyes, while tongues of smoke slid into his lungs and produced another yet another horrific bout of coughing. And with every cough – every movement that once again ripped open any clotting that formed – blood dripped from the wounds that Bruce was trying so desperately to dress. As the blood flowed, so did his words.

"I'm so sorry."

"I didn't mean it."

Tony knew this. Time and time before, his partner would lose control of himself, leaving bruises and broken bones to show for it. But Tony would always speak up, telling him it wasn't his fault and that he still loved him. He would always say something to let him know everything was okay.

This time, he didn't say anything.

He stared out into the ruins of the city in front of him. All time seemed to have stopped: there were no police cars, no civilians, nobody around to offer assistance except Bruce. And Tony was grateful for this. He really was. It probably took Bruce an absurd amount of energy to find him, half-buried in the wreckage, let alone pick himself up at all after the transformation.

But it was such a little thing that set Bruce off. The whole idea almost didn't make any sense when Tony realized how extensive the body count would be this time.

Tony himself had been so close to ending up as another one of those figures. As much as he despised the notion, it was true.

In exchange for a second chance to live, his arm had been dislocated in a grisly manner, his ankles twisted, and far too many of his ribs broken. There were holes in his body from where the debris struck him. A briny tang of metal filled his nostrils, originating from the crimson that now streamed from numb tissue and onto Bruce's trembling hands. They held gauze and a sling, ever so carefully trying to press onto the injuries without causing pain.

"I'm so sorry," Bruce repeated, more piteously this time. His voice, although characteristically soft and comforting to the ears, was hoarse from shouting. He himself – as a man – wasn't guilty of such noise. But the connection was there. He was tied to the ruins around the two scientists, the hurt in both of their eyes, and the creek of blood, which had become bound by pure white dressings.

Tony knew he could take the physical pain. When it came down to it, broken bones healed, and the agony that now swept over him in waves was almost too strong to be felt at all.

But he also knew that his body could only take so much. If there had been just one more blow…

One more fall from an inhumane height…

He could have been dead.

Tony knew that if this happened, it would be far worse for Bruce than it would be for him. And as Tony watched Bruce finish up the bandaging on his arm, the idea of his partner killing him managed to finally coax tears into his eyes.

A final fastening of the gauze told Tony it was over. But this suggestion extended past the treatment of his wounds. Slowly, cringing from pain, he turned to face the man who was kneeling beside him. There was grief in Bruce's face, but even so, Tony could tell the man was in a daze. He, too, had undergone physical suffering. And as if he weren't showing enough emotion already, an ebony shade of guilt had glazed over his eyes, which hadn't even been blue for very long.

Murmuring words of comfort, Bruce gently lifted Tony's good arm onto his shoulders and helped him to his feet. The scientist knew exactly how to hold him so that he wasn't in pain, and this saddened Tony.

He swayed on his feet and intuitively leaned forward into Bruce's arms, numbness overcoming the pain of his wounds. All he could feel was the warmth of his partner now. This would be the last time he felt it.

"Tony," Bruce lamented, "if there's anything I can do right now… Tell me." The apologetic man placed a tender kiss on Tony's cheek, which had been marked by salt from his tears. And then he gave another one.

Tony didn't say anything; he didn't even know what to say anymore. So much shame was radiating from Bruce, and it hurt Tony deeply. Bruce needed someone to forgive him, now more than ever, and tell him everything was okay.

And Tony would have given anything to do this. He would have stayed with him and whispered words of acceptance, understanding – _hope_ – into his ear. But this couldn't go on forever. When Tony was dead, there would be nothing left of him to say these things. And when this day came, he knew there would be nothing left of Bruce, either.

Someone had to save Bruce from himself. There wasn't any other way.

"Bruce," he finally whispered, his voice choking up with emotion. That was when Tony Stark, savior and friend, gave Bruce Banner what he so desperately needed for one last time: "it's okay."

The look that filled his eyes was something Tony had grown to cherish: it was still one of doubt, but the faintest light of absolution had reached forth into visibility. Bruce said nothing, but instead brought his head to rest on Tony's shoulder and began to cry.

The moment seemed to last forever. Amidst the sun, the dust stirred by feathery winds and the broken tomb of the city surrounding them, the two scientists held each other closely. Tony inhaled, valuing the air which was purified by Bruce's sweet scent. He would miss it greatly.

Once Bruce had stopped crying, quieting into someone with all the peacefulness of a beautiful sunrise, Tony knew the time was finally right. It would hurt Bruce so much, but there wasn't any other way. After one final kiss, he looked to him and spoke the words that would save both of their lives:

"Walk away Bruce, and don't come back for me."


End file.
